A Lady in Waiting Unexpurgated!
by Mistress of the Knight
Summary: An expansion on my collection of drabbles, telling of how our Lady of the Pond came to Camelot and what troubles will ensue.
1. Chapter 1

**A Lady in Waiting – Unexpurgated!**

**A.N./ Many thanks for those who gave me the nudge into writing a proper story (you may regret this, I'm a slow writer!). I've titled it 'Unexpurgated' since it's longer than the drabbles, rather than because it contains naughtiness (unless it gets away from me). Whilst it hurts me to my very soul not to be writing about David Tennant (the only true Doctor), I couldn't resist the Lady of the Pond. **

**Please let me know your thoughts, as my friends regard even watching these shows as a shameful secret and would consider me as somewhere slightly below pond scum for writing a crossover. I therefore am relying on the kindness of strangers for that feeling of support and acceptance!**

**Disclaimer: I am a poor penniless teacher who owns little but the clothes on my back and the weird thoughts in my head. Please don't bother to sue!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Rifted all the way<strong>

"Cardiff?"

Amy stopped dead in the door to the Tardis, causing her husband to slam into the long line of her back. She didn't budge an inch, her eyes boring holes into the innocent grin of the tweed-clad man in front of her.

He backed away, arms spread wide in an expansive gesture as if to embrace the damp grey buildings and slick tarmac surrounding them.

"What?" He squealed in exaggerated good cheer. "Cardiff's great! You should try their fish and chips!" He hooked one finger under his maroon bow tie, loosening it as he swallowed uncomfortably under Amy's unrelenting glare.

"You promised me beaches. You promised me cloud capped towers and gorgeous palaces." She wrinkled her nose as she glanced disparagingly round the drab dockyards. "I wouldn't exactly say that this is the stuff that dreams are made on."

At last, she took that final step out of the brightly lit doorway, allowing Rory to follow and take in their surroundings.

The Doctor raised a brow at her. "I guess that depends on who's doing the dreaming." He did a complicated pirouette to spin around her and slap a hand affectionately against the open door of the Tardis. "The Old Girl brought us here for a reason, I'm sure. " He grinned. "Whatever it is, it won't be dull!"

Rory glanced around dubiously, taking in the complete absence of movement in the vast concrete warehouses surrounding them. "Really?" he murmured "Because that does seem to be the first word that springs to mind."

The chilled air was cut by a grating screech as a large seagull flapped down to perch on the roof of the Tardis. It glared at them suspiciously, shifting from one foot to the other as it left its judgment on their presence in its domain in a long stream of white down the side of the blue box.

Amy sniggered as the Doctor flapped his hands at it indignantly, causing it to hop back a few paces to the back of the roof. He pulled out a bright red handkerchief, spat on it and started scrubbing furiously at the old wood.

The couple waited patiently for a minute, hunched against the cold wind. Finally Amy cleared her throat meaningfully.

"Sooo! These adventures and wonders and wild mad times!" She drawled. "When exactly should we expect …"

She was cut short as a much louder screech cut through the air. This one seemed to reach down into the spines of everyone present and root them to the spot with a primeval terror.

The grey sky was sliced open in a jagged tear, the edges rimmed with ghostly blue flames. A long sinuous neck wound its way out of the gash. A cavernous beak lined with shining, foot long teeth gaped wide as it screamed and gripped the edge of the ribbon of fire with powerful talons. With an awkward flop it dragged the last of its grey, scaly legs through the gap. It pulled out of its ungainly fall, catching itself with a flap of its leathery wings to come to a swaying halt on the roof of the Tardis. As the seagull took off, it snapped its jaws sideways, with an almost negligible effort, and the bird was gone except for a few drifting feathers on the wind.

The trio remained immobile as the great beast swung its head from side to side, focusing first one glowing red eye on them, then the other. It seemed to focus most of its attention on the Doctor, who leaned forward slightly, silently matching it stare for stare.

With a sudden powerful down sweep of wings that seemed to compress the air around them, it sprang from its perch, powering over their heads to circle over the skyline of buildings.

There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Rory, who choked out in a shaky voice "What the hell was that?"

"Wyvern." The Doctor murmured absently. He seemed more preoccupied than disturbed. "But that really shouldn't be here..." he trailed off.

Amy let out a snort. "Ya think?" she barked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because I thought that 21st Century Cardiff was just swarming with monsters!"

The Doctor raised a brow at her. His face was serious but his body practically vibrated with pent up energy. "Then you thought right! There have been victims of time-slips and extraterrestrial flotsam and jetsam washing up in Cardiff for centuries, courtesy of a transcendental hellmouth they call 'the Rift'" he snapped impatiently, then continued almost to himself "But the rift ought to have been sealed when we fixed all the cracks in the universe. So why..."

He shook himself suddenly, like a dog shaking off moisture. "Come on!" he called, striding away from them without glancing back to see if they followed. "Unless things have changed since I was last here, there may be some people nearby who can give us some information. Plus maybe some help catching an angry dragon's second cousin" he threw in, as if this was a minor inconvenience.

Rory started jogging to catch up, then paused as a chill wind brushed across the nape of his neck. He glanced back at the wide open dockyard, empty apart from a few grey feathers dancing in little spirals in the wind.

"Amy?" he called out in alarm, whirling around with increasing desperation. "Amy, where are you!"

The Doctor froze mid-march, whirling around, his sonic screw-driver seeming to magically appear in his white knuckled grip. He swept it over the grey concrete where his companion had been standing just seconds before, his face intent.

"Doctor, where is she? Where's my wife?" Rory's voice was laced with barely concealed panic.

The Doctor looked up, a guilty frown creasing his forehead. "Ooops!" he murmured with an awkward grimace. "It appears that Amy may have been Rifted."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Lady in Waiting Unexpurgated!**

**A.N. Thanks so much to LadyRaylen and Resa (who I'm not sure whether to embrace as a fan or run from as a scary controller of Weeping Angels!)**

**I should have mentioned that this is set sometime before the end of season 6 of Doctor Who (11th Doctor), and just before the beginning of Season 4 of Merlin. Right, commenting expansion of drabbles!**

**Disclaimer: As before – I grovel before the genius of the creators of these shows and humbly beg for their forgiveness!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Big fish, small Pond<strong>

"T'was like a ribbon of flayme, lickin' the sky, right enough. It swallowed moy best cow, so it did. One minute my Bessy was there eatin' 'er 'ay, next she were gone, and the 'ay were all blown to buggery ... um ... all blown away, milord."

Prince Arthur had tried to not to let any flicker of amusement disturb his expression of polite concern. The poor local peasant had looked uncomfortable enough as he shuffled from foot to foot in the huge audience chamber, clutching his shapeless hat in a two-fisted white-knuckled grip.

The Prince had solemnly assured the man that he would look into the mysterious disturbance of poor Bessy. And, as he had explained to his incessantly complaining servant for what seemed like the hundredth time, THAT was why they were riding out into the surrounding forests at daybreak on this cold and foggy Autumnal morning. The bows and arrows Merlin had been told to bring were a mere side-note, just in case they happened to spot any quarry in the course of their investigations.

Arthur glanced sideways at his manservant. He noticed for the first time that the familiar grumbles and whining comments had fallen uncharacteristically silent over the course of the last ten minutes of riding. He was surprised to see his companion's expression drawn into an unfamiliar mask of intense concentration, making the long lines of his face seem older somehow. Merlin was holding his body very straight in the saddle, gripping the reigns tightly as he glared around the woods as he searched for something. He shivered violently, as if being chilled by a cold wind, although in these forests the air was still.

Arthur pulled his horse over slightly so that their knees were almost touching. "What's wrong, Merlin?" he asked softly, his voice empty of its usual mocking tone. He felt a quick flash of annoyance as Merlin's head snapped around, a goofy grin slipping into place like a well worn mask.

"What could possibly be wrong, Sire?" he asked brightly. "You know how much I _love_ these early morning hunting trips... oops, I mean fact-finding missions." He shivered again with deliberate exaggeration. "I almost hope we find this cow munching flame-monster soon. I'm frozen to the very marrow."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, feeling an increasingly familiar stab of frustration as he looked at the friendly, open face of the man he should know so well after three years of close association. Then he sighed, kicking his horse on, but turning back in the saddle to call back in a cheerful voice.

"You should dress better, I'm perfectly warm."

He grinned as he heard Merlin mutter in a tone that was deliberately just above the sub-audible. "That's because you're all wearing nice thick padded armour. Armour that'll be rusting in this damp weather. And will you be the ones to clean it? Ooooh no...!"

Arthur had caught up to the group of five knights riding in front of them and caught the eye of Sir Gwaine who had looked back at hearing his approach. He quirked a brow.

"Still complaining?" Gwaine asked in amusement.

"Always. Until the skies fall." Arthur intoned in a long suffering lament.

Gwaine leaned over in his saddle to talk more privately, in a low tone.

"Seriously though, Arthur. Do we have any idea what we're looking for here? Gaius couldn't think of any beast resembling the description that that farmer gave. How on earth are we meant to kill a line of fire?"

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, although he honestly wasn't sure what he was going to say. He was distracted by a distant crackle of thunder that seemed to rumble on, just over the edge of hearing, like the crackle of flames eating dry bracken.

He cocked his head to one side, trying to get a fix on the direction the noise was coming from.

"I think we may have found what we're looking for, it seems to be coming from the field just beyond this wood. Fall in after me, men." He snapped out, but was halted as Merlin quickly urged his horse forward until he could reach out and grab Arthur's arm in a tight grip.

"Please Arthur, let me go first. I could ... scout out the area or something."

Arthur let out a bark of laughter at his servant's familiar, yet hopelessly misplaced, attempt at gallantry. "_Mer_lin! We all know that you couldn't sneak up on anything to save your life!" He pulled his arm free and slapped his servant on the shoulder in a friendly gesture that nearly buffeted him out of the saddle. "Besides, if I was the sort of person who needed a human shield, you're much too skinny for the job. Now Percival here.." he gestured at the largest of his knights, whose placid, broad face split with a grin at the shared joke.

"Just stay behind us Merlin, and try not to get into any trouble." With that, he urged his horse into a canter, taking the lead and trusting his well trained knights to fall in behind him in practised order. It took less than a minute to reach the fringes of the wood where the trees began to thin. A soft blue light flickered over the moss of the trees before winking out, leaving the wood in a dull gloom. Arthur hesitated, feeling the urge to go carefully into an unknown situation.

"Dismount men, we'll approach on foot." He murmured in a low voice, flinging himself nimbly out of the saddle and casually looping the reigns of his horse around a slim tree.

He paused on the edge of the forest, looking out over a field of golden corn that rippled in the breeze like waves upon a lake. His eyes scanned the scene for anything unusual. There certainly was no obvious threat, no line of fire or ravening beast.

He froze as a movement set the corn rustling off to his right. He heard a low groan. This resolved itself into a female voice grinding out the words "Oh god, that hurt. What have you got me into this time?"

He drew his sword, the blade sliding silently out of the well oiled scabbard. He crept forward, sensing his knights fan out behind him. He paused on the edge of a large area where the corn had been pressed flat to the ground, as if by a strong, if localised wind. In the centre of this area, lay the stretched out figure of a long, lithe girl, her titian red hair fanned around her like a halo.

Arthur stared for a moment. His eyes travelling over the long length of her legs, clad in very tight blue trousers, then tore his eyes back to the pale skin of her face, clearing his throat a little awkwardly. The girl opened her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbows, staring around at him and his knights and seeming to take particular note of their drawn swords.

"Well, well, well! Not my usual knights in shining armour!" she drawled in a dry tone. Arthur noted that whilst her wide brown eyes held caution, there appeared to be no fear.

"How did you come to be here!" Arthur demanded in a stern tone, not yet relaxing his grip on his sword. He had learned the hard way that those who appear harmless are often the ones who are the most dangerous.

The lady furrowed her brow in puzzled thought. "You know I'm not really sure. One minute I was standing in the dockyards, the next I was in this field, with just a few memories of some really painful falling in between." She looked them over again, taking particular note of their dragon crested surcoats. "It does seem like I've travelled a fair way though."

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at the slender red-haired lady in the mannish clothes as she sat, splay-legged, gazing back at them with dancing eyes.

"So you're suggesting that you were brought here with magic?" His voice held deep suspicion as he considered her words.

She waved a hand "Magic, time slip, something like that."

Arthur ran his eyes over her rather form-fitting outfit. Whilst he had seen Morgana and Gwen don trousers when the situation called for it, her thin strapped top seemed particularly immodest and unsuitable for the temperature. It also left an uncomfortable amount of smooth creamy skin exposed to the elements. The thought occurred to him that it would have to be a very different, and much warmer, place where such clothing would be considered normal. "And where is it that you come from?" He quizzed her, his tone more curious than threatening now.

She seemed to think for a moment, as if the prospect of a fixed home was not one that came easily, then grinned. "The kingdom of Tardis."

Arthur frowned, searching his memory of kingdoms near and far that Camelot had had dealings with. "I've never heard of it."

"It's very small... although larger than people think!" She smiled at this, as if it were some private joke. The she shivered and a fierce scowl creased her heart shaped face. "The... Lord of that place will be here soon. He better not keep me waiting this time."


	3. Chapter 3

**Lady in Waiting (Unexpurgated!)  
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**A.N. This chapter is particularly dedicated to Resa for believing in me and asking me to continue. You're like my personal muse! Real life got in the way for a while but you gave me the kick I needed to carry on with this. Thanks! I'll try to update more regularly (although marking gets in the way).  
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><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Torched<strong>

The Doctor had managed to usher Rory through the door of the Tardis before the rigid man melted out of his frozen stupor enough to resist.

He left him slumped by the door, his face a shocked mask, and turned his back on him to march purposefully to the control panel. With hurried movements he set the controls for a short two mile lateral translation, rigidly controlling the variables in a way that he rarely bothered with. Now was not the time to disappear off on a magical mystery tour.

"Doctor?" The Doctor's shoulders slumped as he felt Rory stir back to life behind him. He didn't need the distraction of a panicked husband at the moment. With a slightly evil glint in his eye and a twirl of his fingers on a dial, he set the Tardis down in a lurching rough landing. His braced legs and white knuckled grip on the control panel kept him upright, but he heard a muffled thump and a yelp as the man behind him was deposited in an unceremonious heap at the bottom of the shallow flight of stairs.

He spun around in a whirl of energy, flashing a grin at the crumpled scowl below him. "Come on, can't lie around there all day", he called brightly, leaping lightly over Rory's tangled legs and marching towards the door. "We've got a dragon to save and a fair maiden to hunt!"

He ignored the muttered obscenities behind him as he threw open the door and strode out into the grey expanse that was the heart of Cardiff City. The Tardis was lodged behind some straggly trees in a small car park. This was cast in shadow by the looming sweep of the curved, overhanging edifice of the Millennium Centre. The Doctor paused on the edge of this shaded space, staring out at the open concrete of the square courtyard beyond.

A chill wind gusted across the checkered slabs of the empty space but it wasn't that that caused the shiver to ice its way down his spine. His eyes lingered on the bright yellow flapping plastic of warning strips of ribbon that fenced off the piles of rubble around the edges of the square. Small construction huts stood abandoned in the cold evening air around the gaping maw of caved in pavement.

He felt the warmth of a body coming to rest by his shoulder.

"So why've you brought us to a construction site?" he heard the tense voice grind out in impatience. "Who could possibly be here who can help us find Amy?"

The Doctor set his jaw, refusing to let the dismay that gripped his stomach in knots show on his face. He fished his screwdriver out of his pocket, twisted a couple of rings and scanned it over the desolate scene before him, frowning at the patterns of lights and the forlorn little whine it made in response.

"It seems no-one. Nobody's home. Haven't been in months." He turned to lock eyes onto Rory's pale face. "Beneath this square used to be the hub of an organisation who called themselves 'Torchwood'. They dealt with the weird and the bizarre. Stopped the monsters from the depths of the rift from taking over this corner of the world." He paused, a shadow darkening the long lines of his usually mobile features. "There was a man here when I left. He was ... he used to be a friend. I've not seen him in ... quite some time."

He heard Rory let out a rather bitter snort, but refused to meet his eyes this time. "Yet another person you've abandoned, left waiting for you!"

The Doctor didn't respond to this. It was too hard to explain the tangled mess of his feelings when it came to the uncomfortable impossibility that was the immortal Captain Jack.

"Something terrible happened here" he muttered. "I should have come back sooner. No matter how I ... I should have been here!"

He whirled suddenly, turning his back on the wreckage. He strode past the startled figure of Rory, back towards the Tardis.

"Wait a minute!" Rory called out with suppressed fury. "You dragged us here because you said that you needed help in finding where Amy's got to. Now where are we going?"

The Doctor paused, looking back at him over his shoulder with affronted dignity. "Help? I never need help! I am the help!"

"Then why did we bother wasting time coming here?" Rory called out in exasperation.

The Doctor considered this for a moment, his head cocked to one side like a bird, before shrugging and carrying on his march towards the Tardis, calling back as he went in a determinedly cheerful tone. "It would have been nice to catch up but at least the Tardis has had a fuel stop. She does love that Rift energy. It's like a shot of double espresso for her. If I can just keep that wonderful, souped-up old girl focused, she should be able to find a trace of the anomaly that took Amy."

As he bounced up the steps of the Tardis, he heard frantic footsteps pound out across the courtyard as Rory raced to catch up. He ignored the loud slam of the Tardis door, his eyes firmly fixed on the console in front of him, long pianist's fingers dancing over the keys as if playing a concerto.

Data began to stream in from the suddenly extra sensitive receptors of his ship. His eyes narrowed in concentration, hoping that his irate passenger could hold in his frustrated concern long enough for him to figure out their next move. He realised that this hope was futile when the metal grating of the steps clanged under heavy footfalls as Rory stormed up to stand beside him.

The Doctor stared intently at the dials dancing under his fingers, completely ignoring Rory. This was difficult as Rory was shouting quite loudly, red face inches from his ear. He definitely felt flying spittle.

On the monitor, a nebulous cloud of threads were the Tardis's representation of the wake that is left as a body is dragged through a tear in reality.

He saw the time stream strengthen and condense with others until it came to a terminus at a glowing nimbus that he recognised all too well. It was the location that had both intrigued and repelled him for centuries and one that he'd avoided like the plague. He'd read up on the period extensively, all the myths and legends left behind from that extraordinary time. The more he read, the more he'd realised that this was a place that would not welcome a visit from a Timelord. What he would most likely be forced to do ... He felt his fractured hearts splinter further as his ship locked onto this most unwelcome destination.

He wasn't worried about Pond. If he knew her she'd be running the place in a week. But...

"Oh Merlin!" he murmured. "I'm so very sorry!"


End file.
